


Phases of the Hearts

by Periwinkletiger



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Child Abuse, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, High School Student Dean, M/M, Multi, Smut, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 05:15:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5526791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Periwinkletiger/pseuds/Periwinkletiger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester is moved to yet another town in his dad's pursuit for a bloodthirsty werewolf. While his dad is hunting the werewolf plaguing Greenwood, Dean is having to deal with being the one thing his dad hates, a monster. Castiel Novak is playing his part like a puppet. He goes to school, tries to love Hannah, and is on the local soccer team, but deep down all he wants is the adventure that he finds in his novels. Cas is suddenly thrown into Dean's world of good vs evil when the werewolf starts leaving a trail that may ultimately cost Dean his greatest secret (or his heart).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dean Moves In

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for giving this piece of crap a chance! I'm sorry its really short, it was just kind of a chance for me to establish Dean as a character. It also has not been proofed over, so my apologies for any spelling mistakes.

   The leaves were just beginning to fall outside the windows of the house. The school year had started only two months ago, and this was the first time since the summer that his dad actually got them a house. It was small and old, with yellow wallpaper cracking in nearly every room and a musty scent that added to the dusty atmosphere. It was one of the closest things he had gotten to an actual home outside of shifty motel rooms. My dad had opened the door, loaded his gun, and left me with a demon trap drawn by the door and a shotgun by the bed.  
 

  I snapped back to reality when Charlie started furiously tapping on her phone. She sat at the end of my bed with her bright red hair falling around her face. She cursed under her breath before her eyes shifted to the window. I knew what she was looking for, the moon, the same thing I had been worrying over for months. The clock read five fourteen, but the sun was already starting to descend toward the tree line of the forest. She glanced back at her phone and then pushed it towards me with an article pulled up.  
   

   “Charlie you know we already know everything we can possibly know about changing.

    I've watched my dad shoot enough werewolves to get what is about to go down,” my voice is shakier than I wished it to be. I couldn’t look at Charlie’s dark eyes, so I vaguely glanced toward my reflection. I grew during the summer, and my face had finally lost the young fullness that had plagued me at sixteen. A pair of green eyes stared back at me, wider with fear and pain than I could have imagined.

   Charlie sighed and lightly touched my shoulder, “Dean, you’re not an animal. The bite didn’t change you into one.”  
   

      “What do you mean I’m not an animal? I turn into a freaking wolf and eat hearts!” My fingers slid through the short strands of my hair.  
   

      The memories of being bitten come back to me. I could feel the blood from the wound trickling down my side, and the metallic smell that filled every inch of my being. I was dying and being reborn in a pool of my own blood as the infection spread around my body. I trace the slight scar through my shirt.

    Charlie rolled her eyes and closed her phone. “You are being melodramatic. Its not like you are a regular were. You are a first generation. You were bitten by the Alpha, Dean. You can control this, and survive off of deer hearts if you need to.”  
Dad had been tracking the Alpha, and in spite had bitten me in my hotel room. He wanted to send a message to my father by making the one thing my dad loved into the thing he hated.

    My dad never found out about what happened. I called Bobby and he helped me hide it, control it. I could force myself to swallow game, but every time I changed the want for human flesh overwhelmed me. Charlie shifted on my bed and leaned her head against my chest, mildly distracting me from the half moon beginning to glow in the cloudy sky.  
   

    “I don’t know Charlie. I've got a really bad feeling about this.”  
      

   She patted my hand and said, “Well we still have some time Dean. Lets try to get your mind off of it, so Game of Thrones? Gaming? Netflix?”  
    

   I laughed even though it sounded hollow, but she smiled anyways and turned the TV on. I wasn't fully watching the bright colors flashing on the screen, and Charlie soon nodded off beside me. The air in the creaky house chilled with the darkness. I left the TV on and gently pushed off the mattress with the smallest squeak possible. I winced at the squeaking and moved to the far side of the room where the sheets and blankets had been thrown haphazardly earlier in the day. I grabbed the thick navy blanket, led only by the soft moonlight streaking through the window.

  Charlie’s form was only a shadow with her bright red hair faintly visible in the grey lighting. I threw the blanket over her and stood for a moment. The air was so quiet and unfamiliar, I could feel myself relaxing. We could be safe here. I could be happy here, and maybe, just maybe, we could stay a little while.  
    

    The lock on the door downstairs popped open with a click. It echoed through the walls and I tensed, pausing and waiting for another noise. I felt for the knife in my back pocket, and grabbed the blade by the hilt. Charlie stayed still.  
    

    “Dean?” A gruff voice carried from down the stairs.  
    

   I finally breathed, and my muscles noticeably relaxed. I walked across the wooden floors and down the stairs. He stood on top of the rug in the entryway in his disheveled fed suit, gun drawn and pointed straight at me.  
   

  “Dad.”  
    

  “Hey Dean.”  
    

   I stood staring at the rug where I knew under I had put a devil’s trap. My eyes met his and I said evenly, “Well can you come out?”  
  

   He stepped out smoothly and lowered his gun into his waist belt. The Winchester’s kitchen was never well supplied, but it always held John’s life source. A bottle of  Whiskey sat on the table, and dad tore through the shelves looking for a glass.  
    

   “So is there a case?”  
   

    Dad finally settled on a dusty, small glass cup. He filled it to the top and shot it back.  
   

     He sighed before answering,” Yeah. Its a werewolf, that son of a bitch. I went and saw the victims body and its torn to shreds. There was no heart.”  
    

    He took another swig from the bottle and said, “Fill all the guns with silver bullets first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll be gone tomorrow, so lock all the doors like    usual.”  
    

    Dad shuffled past me, not looking me in the eye. He carried his bottle into the bedroom and slammed the door. The bottle would be empty soon.

    I turned the lights off downstairs as I made my way to the stairs, engulfing the house in darkness. I paused beside my bed, where Charlie was still passed out. A muddle of emotions were passing through me. If my dad was hunting a werewolf, then that werewolf may be confused as me. The full moons would be even more dangerous with a promise of a silver bullet being blown through my brains. I could tell him, but I couldn’t stay here with him. I’d never be good. I’d always be a monster in his eyes, and so I would stay a secret. The real question is who is the werewolf in this town?


	2. Castiel Takes a Nap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel POV

   I secretly read during math class.It is twice as fun as watching the clock, which seems to go slower than the literal time. We are one month into my last year of school, and I’m already ticking off the seconds until I never have to come back. I have to constantly remind myself that yes, school is hell, but there is only 160 more days left of absolute torture. I have a copy of To Kill A Mockingbird stuck between the sheets of my math notebook. I had been zoned into it and furiously flipping near the final pages, when I am thrown back to reality.

   Something lightly brushes my arm and I turn in my desk. Hannah leans forward a bit and whispers over the droning of Ms. Frazier, “Is there any chance you have an extra pencil?”

   I nod and grab one from my bag and hand it to her. Her hand brushes mine, and I smile again, because I know thats what she wants. I turn back around before she has a chance to talk to me. I wasn’t in the mood for fake pleasantries when I only had a few pages left. There is a knock on the classroom door, and the restlessness of the room is turned to stillness. Ms.Frazier puts down her marker and opens the wooden door. The girls start giggling immediately upon seeing him. They are looking at the muscular built and the bright green eyes. I don’t know if I can get past the eyes, emerald green and so bright I might swoon with them. He hands Ms. Frazier a note and after a moment of reading it, she smiles brightly and tells him to take a seat. His eyes search for a moment, and I almost wish my friends would move so that there would be empty seats for the bad boy.

   He walks to the back though, his leather jacket swooshing as he sat in the throng of girls. Jake gives me an unimpressed look, and so I nod and sigh as if I agree. I think he’s beautiful.

   Jake and Hannah flock me on the way to lunch. I can hear Jake’s thoughts before he even says it.

   He brushes his flippy blond hair out of his eyes and turns to us, “So about that dude who just moved here.”

   Hannah blushes, “He’s cute. I wonder what his name is.”

   We come to the weightlifting room doors where the smell of man and sweat fills the air. A buzz of voices is carried from wall to wall. I didn't particularly enjoy exercise, but they were my friends and teammates. Plus, I had to stay in shape for soccer somehow. Hannah hugged me at the door and kissed my cheek before heading to her class. For a minute, I dreamed I was her. Jake is already in the dressing room when I enter. The room smells of sweat and man.

   I go to my usual locker in the corner away from everyone else, both for their sake and for my embarrassment. Several other boys were in the room, and I tried my hardest to avert my eyes from their sleek chests and backs. They were the type of people who worked out like it was a job, and it showed with the definition to their bodies. I was a slug in a room full of models Da Vinci would have drawn. I shoved my shirt and shorts on as fast as I could and walked out to the gym. Jake and most of the others would be weightlifting, and the gym teacher cared less what I did for the hour that I was in here. He sat at his desk playing online poker most of the semester which left me time to sneak out of the back door to go to the stadium.

   The girls were playing basketball on the courts as I walked by. Hannah didnt see me, and I relaxed when I made it to the back. I couldn't deal with her for long periods of time. Her perkiness and optimism exhausted my disposition for peace and quiet. As soon as I opened the large creaky door, sunshine nearly blinded me. The smell of pot was also undoubtedly present. A dark haired boy sat against the brick wall sucking on a blunt. He was a rather odd looking lad, short and round faced, but with an air of coldness and dark eyes. He nodded his head at me and then said, “You want some?” He motioned to the smoking blunt.

    I shook my head, but smiled and said, “No thanks, I don’t really do drugs.”

   He smashed the blunt’s head on the pavement and watched the ashes spread on the gray ground.

   “Well, if you ever change your mind, Angel, the names Crowley.”

   I want to defend myself, because I was anything but an angel. Instead I held my breath. I want the conversation to end. I adjust my shirt sleeve, and walk away towards the stadium where I can relax without any interruption. The grass is short from the cooler autumn winds, but it still tickles my ankles. I go to the half line where the sun is shining and lay down on the patch of grass. The wind shifts my hair across my forehead, but the heat still touches my face with a radiant feeling. It feels so good I close my eyes against the bright sunlight. The boy from today floats in the back of my mind, as I drift deeper and deeper into sleep.

    There is only darkness and screaming until I open my eyes to a setting sun.


End file.
